


Don't Trifle With Me

by OhhMyy



Series: Coming Back To Life. [7]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-08-15 13:38:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8058439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhhMyy/pseuds/OhhMyy
Summary: Tony's midnight cravings, a woman with a spatula and a metal armed assassin who can't sleep through the night.





	

It’s pretty much a given that Tony Stark will be awake at odd times. It is often true that Charlie will be where Stark is and it is obvious to the group that this location is the kitchen when they awake to fresh baked cookies and cakes before breakfast and a noticeably absent chef. When the group decide that it is not terribly healthy to eat sugar for breakfast Clint takes over Charlie’s breakfast duties and, used to cooking for large amounts of people in the circus, makes them something resembling a nutritionally beneficial meal.

For this reason Bucky is only half surprised when he wanders into the kitchen, rubbing sleep from his eyes, to find both Tony and Charlie in the kitchen. He can smell buttery warmth wafting from the oven and he pauses to look at them briefly, warming his toes on the heated laminate. Tony is sitting on a bar stool, elbows on counter, looking worse for wear and Charlie stands behind him, leaning on him slightly with arms wrapped around his neck, fingers meeting in the middle of his stomach and clasped together; her head is resting on top of his.

“I’m just saying I’d like some brownies” he hears Tony mumble, it’s low and lacks the energy his usual speech pattern holds.

“Then make them yourself” She retorts wearily, voice slightly muffled by his hair and the intonation in her words tells him they’ve probably been having this discussion for longer than she’d like.

“But you’re baking right now” He’s almost certain that if it wasn’t for the mature timbre of Tony’s voice he could easily be mistaken for a toddler, he seems to revert back to some form of adolescence in the moments Bucky has managed to catch him with Charlie; guard down. He whines quietly and pouts his lips lazily, not bothering to put his mouth back into regular position and managing a cross between frown and duckface.

“Yes, but I’m baking donuts, not brownies”

She looks up, clocks Bucky standing in the hallway and lifts her hand to give a small wave, beckoning him over. The oven dings and she extracts herself from Tony to walk around the counter, opening the door and taking out a tray with a gloved hand (and he’s not even going to question where the Iron Man themed oven gloves came from) before laying them on the cooling rack. Bucky takes a seat at the counter by Tony.  

“Couldn’t sleep?” Tony asks, eyes flicking up to look at him but keeping his head resting in his palms, Bucky notes the absence of a nickname and briefly wonders just how tired Stark is; usual friendly barbs missing and his voice is husky. He nods nonchalantly and raises a small smile when Charlie places the cooling tray of donuts in front of both men. He picks one up gingerly, it’s slightly too hot to hold but he takes a bite nonetheless and speaks just as he swallows; cinnamon warmth hitting the back of his throat.

“Seems I’m not the only one”

“Tony decided it would be a good idea to stay awake for three days and replace sleep with caffeine so we’re waiting out the coffee buzz” Charlie pitches in, berating glare shot at Stark who tries to smirk but fails miserably as he refuses to move his head, lower half of his face squished by his own hands. She says ‘we’re’ like she’s made a similarly bad choice but Bucky knows it’s not true, knows for certain that she just naturally considered Starks problems her own and it warms his chest as much as it freezes it; he is admittedly jealous of their closeness; has found her room empty more than once in confirmation that she’s in Starks bed. He hasn’t the courage, yet, to ask if there is more than friendship.

“I’ll trade the caffeine for brownies Charlie, honestly I’ll never drink it again” It doesn’t take a genius to know that it’s a lie, even the actual genius in the room is aware he couldn’t give up coffee for more than a day. Bucky snorts gently as Charlie whips her head in Tony’s direction.

“That is a lie Tony. I am a woman with a spatula, don’t trifle with me,” As if to prove her point she waves the spatula in hand in front of his face, brandishing it like a sword and as glassy as his eyes are Tony does manage to move himself backwards slightly away from it.

“We could make Trifle” He grumbles under his breath and Bucky watches Charlie’s lip quirk up at one corner as she lowers the spatula to the counter-top; trying in vain to keep her face neutral.

“Honey, shut up and have a donut” She’s using the same tone of voice one would use with a toddler, patience running short and brain losing cognitive function; she can feel her thoughts slowing inside her head like cogs are stopping turning one by one. Tony sits up and elbows Bucky gently in the ribs but reaches forward coyly with his other hand to grab a sugary treat, shoving the entire thing into his mouth and trying to smile and speak around it.

“She only calls me Honey when she’s mad”

Bucky snickers but shoots her a sympathetic smile when he sees her rub the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. Tony heaves himself from his seat and wanders groggily over to the living area, plopping himself on the sofa with a huff. He pulls a throw down from the back of the sofa and wraps it over his shoulders before lifting his legs onto the cushions, laying himself down in a blanket burrito.

She watches Stark fondly from across the room until she’s sure he’s dozing (a sign of just how exhausted the pair are that it takes him less than a minute to fall asleep) before turning to Bucky; placing her elbows on the counter in front of him and leaning forward slightly to look into his eyes, he’s not a strong enough man not to take in the low cut vest she’s wearing and sneak a glance at her cleavage.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah Doll, just bad dreams” His eyes meet hers again and when he takes a closer look he can see the dark circles under her eyes and the thin red veins in her eyes more prominent than usual. “Have you been awake with him for the past three days?” She nods and yawns into the back of her hand, taking longer than usual to clear her eyes of mist and speak to him.

“He was having nightmares, must be something in the air” She tries for light but he suddenly wonders just how much she has to deal with her own nightmares without Stark needing attention or telling her about his, but as if she can see the cogs turning she reaches forward a hand and places her hand gingerly against his cheek.

“You know it might help you to talk”

“It might help if _you_ talk” He grumbles, knows she’s only trying to help but even before HYDRA he wasn’t one for sharing his feelings. His past isn’t a secret from any of the group or much of the world by this point but he considers that talking about his problems will somehow make her think less of him. She moves her hand away from him and holds out both palms in surrender.

“Point taken, but if you want to you know where I am” He nods in understanding even if he isn’t yet fully willing to take her up on the offer.

“Bucky you’re bleeding” She suddenly announces, gripping his flesh arm gently toward her, wrapping her fingers around his forearm and running a thumb near a scratch; it’s not bad, not even comparable to anything he’s sustained in battle but she’s looking at it like it’s a war wound.

“It’s nothing Doll, just a scratch, must have done it in my sleep” The slight, pale, reddening beside it tells him that he’s probably caught it with a metal digit whilst dreaming and he pulls his arm away gently, examines it and puts his arm down on the counter with a quick shrug to indicate just how un-phased he is. Charlie however moves quickly, rummaging through the kitchen drawer in haste until she pulls out a big plaster…emblazoned with a Captain Americas shield. She unpicks the backing and grabs for his arm again; he gives it willingly, smile on his face at her concern. She places the plaster over the scratch, firms it down gently with the tips of her thumbs and reaches forward to peck a light kiss to the top of it.

“All better” She declares, smile on her face as she straightens up with a wobble, tiredness getting the better of her. He glances down at his arm and looks at his allegiance to the shield before smirking up at her.

“You’ve branded me with Steve”

“They didn’t have a you” She sounds so adorably frustrated on his behalf and he’s no doubt that in her new found desire to find all the merchandise she can with her friends on she has hunted high and low for items marked with him, he also have no doubt that very little, if any, exist.

“Not a lot of people would want me on their bodies, Doll”

“I’d have you on mine” She says it fiercely, without thinking and just before glorious, beautiful images start flashing through his mind he has the good grace to be touched by just how much he means to her, and to the group. He glances at her with an eyebrow raised just in time to see her think over her words, nose pinched between her fingers again.

“That sounded…I’m very tired”

Despite her words, he watches as she turns on her heels (or try to, her footing is not stable and he can see her power down as if her batteries were running out) and reaches through cupboards and starts pulling items out, flour followed by cocoa powder and he knows what she’s doing before the words leave his mouth.

“What are you doing?”

“Brownies” She answers but the word is slightly slurred and he sees her hand grip the edge of the counter as her feet stumble; he’s out of the stool in a flash and he comes up behind her just as she sags into him; brings his arms around her waist. He feels the weight of her against him, backside pressing against his pelvis but as he looks down to her face he watches her eyes scrunch; fighting desperately against the exhaustion that’s tugging at her and his worry is tinged with annoyance that Starks well-being has been put before hers. She looks up at him with open eyes just enough for him to take in the glassiness of her eyes, dilated pupils.

“Shit Doll, come on” He moves his arms back slightly; enough to grip her hips with his palms and guide her gently, chest still pressed to her back, over to the sofa next to Stark. He watches as Tony, without waking, moves instinctively to rest his head on top of her thigh, shuffling his body up so he can stay curled up in his blankets. She opens her eyes with enough focus to lace her hand briefly into his hair, giving a quick stroke as one would a cat before making grabby hands at Bucky.

“You’ll ache if you sleep here, Doll” She hums gently but he moves to sit beside her anyway; knowing she’s too tired to move and doubts that she’ll leave Tony to his own devices. He leans his own body on the arm of the sofa and resists the urge to smile as she curls into his waist, head resting on his side where his torso bends as his arm comes over the back of the sofa and down again to settle on her upper arm.

-

He wakes as the sun rises to the smell of chocolate and an absent brunette. He is instead greeted by a different brunette, in the form of a clingy and still snoring Tony, resting against his outer thigh. He cranes his neck in the direction of the kitchen and sees her turning the oven off, stack of brownies on a plate next to her. He rolls his eyes, both fondly and in frustration; knows they’ve not slept more than a few hours but somehow he knew there would be brownies at some point in the day, kindness often outshining sense in this home.

He gently slides himself out from under Tony (and oh how he never thought that would be a thing he’d have to do) and rests the billionaires head onto the sofa cushion before heaving himself from his seat. For a man who spends more time than is healthy avoiding sleep Tony is a surprisingly heavy sleeper once he’s out for the count. Bucky makes his way over to the kitchen, making sure his usually silent footsteps create a warning noise on the carpet then laminate. She turns slowly, shoulders hunched and he knows instantly she feels guilt at having been caught. She offers him a guilty smile that's almost a wince.

“If you say you made Brownies, I’ll be very disappointed” He queries with a teasing tone in his voice. She pouts at him and moves to the left in what he guesses in an attempt at subtlety to stand in front of the plate, shielding it from his view, trying to seem nonchalant. He reaches forward and places his hands on her hips, pulling her forward and to the right without much effort, away from the counter.  He flicks his eyes fleetingly over the plate and back at her, keeps his palms pressed against her hips and peers down at her, looking down the center of his nose he raises an eyebrow.

She doesn’t answer, instead choosing to lean forward to crash her forehead into his chest, hiding her face from view, body still away from his so she’s bent slightly. She pauses for a beat before shuffling her feet quickly against the floor, tiny steps until her hips rest against his and she tilts her head so her chin rests against the dip in his chest and her eyes look into his. She moves her lips into a childish pout and pulls her best impression of a sad face.

He raises a quick smile at her adorableness, resists the urge to lean down and press a kiss to her lips; Tony is in the room and he doesn’t want to get between anything. He closes his eyes, breathing slowly to try an get his feelings into check, and misses the hurt that flashes across her face but feels her move away. He opens his eyes just in time to feel and see her slip from him, turning back to make sure the oven is off and notes the sudden change of atmosphere in the room. He drops his hands to his sides and worries he’s made his crush too obvious, but she turns and offers him a smile and a good morning before scooting around him and wandering out of the kitchen.


End file.
